


come to me from across the sea

by Littlehouse



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Forbidden Love, Homophobia, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlehouse/pseuds/Littlehouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1872, Josh Dun is given the opportunity to travel to Japan and start his life over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come to me from across the sea

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely hate coming up with summaries so please forgive the mediocre attempt at that.
> 
> Anyways, this whole story came about when I learned about Josh's great grandfather moving to Japan and starting a life there so I was super inspired to write something about it. I did a lot of research before writing this but there is probably lots of flaws in the accuracy of this version of Japan. If you've ever seen the animes Samurai Champloo and Mushishi, both of those have influence on the way I picture Japan in this story (they're both beautifully animated and amazing stories, so if you have the time I highly recommend watching them!). 
> 
> If you come across any errors in the story please let me know so I can fix it - I would like for it to be as close to accurate as possible. Thank you and enjoy!

_April 18, 1872_

_Farm and seedlings continue to do well. Cannot help but wish there was more to life than growing - I wish I myself could grow with the prosperity I have been granted._

 

The billowing cloud of dust in the distance alerted Josh to the presence approaching his farm from the edges of his property. His father's property, really - he was gifted two acres of the farm for his eighteenth birthday five years ago, and another acre when he turned twenty one and had continued success. His father had planned for Josh to take over eventually, slowly letting him take control over what he grew and how he cared for the animals under his ownership.

Josh planted his shovel firmly in the dirt and wiped his hands off on his trousers, their brown color disguising any dirt that might rub off. He put his hands on his hips and watched as the cart being carried by two horses slowly made its way down the winding road to his small cabin, a small smile creeping on his features as he recognized the driver handling the reigns. 

“What brings you all the way out here?” Josh asked, smiling up at his friend Pete. “A spontaneous trip to see little old me? I am flattered.” 

“Psshh,” Pete stood from his cart, climbing off the side and hopping down to the earth. “Absolutely not. I would never waste my time just to see you.” Josh grinned and hugged his friend, careful to keep his distance and not rub any dirt off on Pete’s clothes. They had been friends from childhood and since they shared a schoolroom, and despite Josh’s agricultural background and Pete’s family being merchants, they stayed close. Pete’s family still didn’t like them hanging out; not because of any class differences, but because Pete always returned with some form of dirt hanging about him. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Josh offered, motioning to his cabin. Pete nodded, pulling his hat from his head and running a hand through his short hair. Josh’s own hair was frizzed, but he didn’t bother combing it. He was going to sweat and toll anyways, no bother in trying to make an appearance of himself.

After Pete had taken a seat at his small table and Josh put a pot of coffee over his fireplace, he glanced at him over his shoulder. “What sends you out here?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

Pete waited a moment and strummed his hands on the table before stretching back into his seat and smiling.

“I have a proposition for you.” he said, spreading his hands. “Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Only this one will change your life.” Josh rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Another get rich quick scheme?” he teased, pushing a stray coal back into his fireplace with his boot. “I thought your family was all about hard work.” 

“Nothing like that,” Pete promised, smiling, “It’s not a scheme. It’s a real opportunity that happened to present itself – sort of miraculously – to us. I think you would really enjoy it.” Josh nodded and sighed, a small smile stuck on his face. 

“Let’s hear it then.” he said, leaning back. Pete paused and then grinned.

“Joshua, how would you like to go to Japan?” 

Josh blinked. 

“Japan?” he repeated, brows furrowing slightly. “Japan is…”

“An island,” Pete answered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what was – presumably – a map. “An island nation located in Asia.” He opened the map and spread it onto Josh’s table, and Josh watched carefully as Pete turned it towards him. The island was spread in a large curving motion, and Josh thought idly how it looked like a dragon. It was big, but much smaller than the United States. He looked at Pete in confusion. 

“Why would I want to go here?” he asked, motioning to the map. Pete leaned forward, tapping the top of the map. 

“This is the region of Hokkaido,” Pete pronounced the name slowly, whether because he was still unfamiliar with the name or because he wanted Josh to hear it was unknown, “And they are looking for people to come and develop the island.” 

“Who are they?” Josh asked. 

“Emperor Meiji and his council.” Pete answered. “They are looking to modernize their nation. Or, as they call it, westernize.” Josh listened to Pete with little interest and turned from him, pulling his coffee pot from the fire place. 

“Why do I want to go to there and help modernize?” Josh asked, “That idea… doesn’t really appeal to me.” Pete nodded as if he had expected this but, in typical Pete fashion, held up a hand as if to argue his case. 

“You’d be paid very well for your time and assistance,” he offered, “And if you choose to return here, then you’ll be honored for your life. And you get to tell people of your travels and tales.” 

“I don’t care about that,” Josh shrugged, filling up a mug with coffee for Pete, “I don’t really want to leave here or go anywhere. I’ve got my life pretty much figured out.”

“What, farming here for the rest of your life?” Pete asked, raising an eyebrow as he took the mug from Josh. “You’re twenty two. That’s a long time to farm and do nothing else.” Josh shrugged. Pete sighed. “In addition to money and the wealth of knowledge, you’d have your own land there and you could employ tenants. Help start a town. Go down in history. Doesn’t that sound amazing?” 

Josh sat down opposite Pete, mug in hand, and looked at his friend.

“How did you find out about this?” he asked, leaning back into his seat.

“Council meeting at town hall,” Pete answered, “Some big shot from Washington, D.C. or New York came through looking for people to recruit. He came in specifically for my father, since he’s successful, but he’s looking for people with science skills, engineers, you name it.” He chewed the bottom of his lip and glanced away guiltily. “I told my father to recommend you highly.” Josh blinked again.

“What?” he asked, not really processing. Pete sighed.

“My father has recommended you as a farmer to go and help. Not really the head farmer, I guess? Supposedly there are going to be dozens upon dozens of people going, but everyone in town knows about your success. Your father is getting to be too old, and you’re young enough that the trip could be a breeze. You’re strong, too. Smart. No family, er, as of yet. Perfect candidate.” Pete sipped his coffee as Josh stared at him. He set his mug down and rubbed at his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“Okay. Besides the fact that I do have a family, I really have no interest in going to this place. I’m sure that the language barrier alone would be an uphill climb to overcome—“

“They’ve got translators already hired to help.” Pete countered.

“Why would you recommend me without knowing if I was interested?” Josh asked, brows furrowing. 

“If I didn’t then somebody else would have.” Pete said, holding his hands up in defense. “You’ve got amazing success for your age, and everybody talks about it. Don’t try to tell me that isn’t true, because it is, and everyone loves you. If they had heard about this opportunity and thought it would be good for you then they would recommend you.” 

A silence spread over them for a moment, and Josh bounced his knee.

“… Are you going?” Josh asked finally, sitting up a little straighter. Pete hesitated and set down his mug slowly, chewing his bottom lip. 

“Surprise?” he offered, an unsure smile spreading on his face. 

“So this is more about not going alone than me being truly interested.” Josh surmised, running a hand down his face. 

“No, not at all.” Pete said quickly. “I’ve heard a lot about Japan before this came up. I did a little more research since. Which brings me to my final point...” He looked towards Josh’s door and his windows, careful to lower his voice as if they were being watched. “Their views are… quite different than our public views.” He murmured in a hushed tone. “What goes on behind closed doors unspoken here is actually quite normal and celebrated there.” 

Josh felt his face flame up and heartbeat quicken. Pete pulled back and sipped his coffee again. 

“… I don’t know.” Josh hesitated, rubbing his face. “That sounds like such a risk. I don’t know if the entire trip is worth going just for—for that.” Pete shrugged. 

“I would be honored if you decided to come with me.” he said, “I just wanted to bring it up to you. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all.” Josh nodded, and stood up from his seat. 

“I’ll consider it.” he promised. 

 

_April 25, 1872_

_Pete left the map here he brought me of Japan. It sounds like a tale from a story book – being given the chance to travel to a faraway land and offer some skill or trade of importance. I have been thinking over it heavily, and I believe I have decided.  
I am going with him._

 

His mother had burst into tears when he told his family the news. His father said nothing, simply patting his shoulder and nodding. His brother had bugged him, making him promise that he would write and send off letters and other memorabilia when given the soonest chance. His sisters set to sewing him new trousers and shirts for the trip, promising to help him look his best. He needed to make an impression in this new land of Japan, after all. 

Josh had met with the man organizing the trip, a man named Gerard, short and stocky and from New Jersey. Excitement followed him wherever he went, and he was very pleased to meet Josh, who sat behind the desk he was set up at in his best jacket and pants. 

“I am glad you’ve signed up,” he spoke quickly, filling in a form Josh assumed he would be asked to sign, similar to a contract of some sort. It made him a little nervous. “We needed more farmers. They want their agriculture to boom, and we can’t let them down.” Josh nodded, half paying attention to what he was saying. 

“How do we get there?” Josh asked in a small voice. Gerard looked up and set his pen down, clearing his throat. 

“Right, I should explain all the details to you before I officially sign you up. They can scare some people away.” He stood from his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a large map that he unrolled over the top. The map depicted the world as they knew it – The Americas, Europe and Africa, and the Asian continent. He leaned over and pointed to their current location, “You’ll start here, where you’ll go to the train station in Columbus around mid-May. From there, you will board a train to Baltimore, Maryland where you will stay until we are ready to launch. Right now, we are hoping to leave by July. That will give us plenty of time to gather everything we need and for the rest of our volunteers and crew for this trip to gather. Then we will officially launch.

“The first port stop is scheduled for Portugal. Then, we slowly make our way down the African coast. We’ll make stops in Saint Helena, Cape Town, and right through Singapore. Shanghai, China will be our last port stop before we reach our destination in March, should all go well.”

“March of 1873?” Josh asked, swallowing a little. Gerard nodded. 

“The trip takes about seven to eight months. It’s not the quickest route, not by miles,” Gerard said seriously, pointing towards San Francisco and the relatively direct straight shot it seemed to be to Japan. “However, it is the safest. We’re never stranded in the middle of the ocean should something go wrong, and we have ports in these stops we can rest at and easily trade in should the need arise.” Gerard took in Josh’s worried expression and tried to smile. “Once you reach Japan, you’ll be very happy. It’s unlike any place you’ve ever visited before, and you have the chance to be very successful.”

“I believe that.” Josh said, nerves bundling in his stomach. He thought about spending his birthday in a city he had never been to, spending Christmas and New Years on a boat in the middle of the ocean, far away from his family. It all made him anxious, but the opportunity to be happy in a foreign land where nobody knew him pushed him to take the trip. The idea of adventure, like the tales he read and was told when he was young, excited him a little bit.

He nodded at Gerard to continue writing. 

 

_May 15, 1872_

_Leaving today for Baltimore. I have never been there, and neither has Pete. I am incredibly relieved to be taking this trip with my friend, or I would surely have never had the courage to leave._

 

Baltimore was a port town in every sense of the word. The harbor, although beautiful, was constantly bustling with energy and activity. Ships came and went daily, and Josh marveled that one day he would be leaving on one of those ships. 

The harbor itself glistened, the large port an inviting marvel for all to come and see. Piers held ships of all sizes, mostly trade, and some naval with their colors flying proudly. Gulls circled the air, birds Josh had never seen before, and he marveled at the clear bay water holding up the ships. He had never seen a bay before – let alone the oceans they would be traveling. 

“Like a real city.” Pete murmured, staring at the water splashing against the pier they stood on. Josh nodded, hands stuck in his trouser pockets. His sisters had sewn him three new jackets and two pairs of pants before he left, ones he wore now. He had never worried or been concerned about appearances before, but now that he was considered important, he should look the part. He didn’t know how important he felt. 

The harbor housed Fort McHenry, where the city had defended itself against an oncoming attack from the British nearly sixty years before. Currently the fort was flying the flag of the United States and the state flag of Maryland, and soldiers were running drills inside the walls. Josh heard the steady beat of a drummer boy and smiled, tapping his foot along with the beat. 

“I kind of like it here.” he commented, and Pete nodded. “It’s a change of pace.” 

“Big change in scenery, for sure.” Pete said. “I heard somebody talking about a tavern, if you’re interested.” 

Seeing as they had time to waste and the strong desire to not look too out of place, Josh agreed.

The tavern they visited had something called crab cakes, and Josh had never tasted anything like it before. Seafood was very popular in Baltimore, apparently, which Josh was completely unfamiliar with. It tasted good enough – soft and chewy, and crispy on the outside after being fried. 

“They have lots of seafood in Japan.” Pete said, licking his fingers after finishing his cake. Josh nodded. The nation was an island after all – they probably ate seafood every day.

“Do you think they have this?” Josh asked, referring to his last bit of crab. Pete looked thoughtful and then shrugged. 

“I’m sure they have something like it, if not this.” he reasoned. Josh nodded again and finished off his meal. He could get used to Japan if he could eat like this. 

 

_June 18, 1872_

_I am twenty three today._

_In one month I will be on a ship to Japan. Last year on my birthday, I wished for good luck and prosperity. I never imagined it would be delivered to me this way._

 

A small package arrived for him from his family, neatly wrapped in brown paper. He had written his family and told them the name of the hotel he would be housed in until their departure when he arrived, and a few days after his birthday there was a bellhop at his door ready to deliver a package. He thanked the boy and tipped him, and stole back inside his room.

Inside the box were letters from each of his family members, another pair of trousers, and an enclosed letter with instructions not to be opened until he reached Japan. His mother’s letter smelled like her perfume, and he held it close and smoothed it to his chest. The soft brown paper comforted him and brought him back to his home, his farm back in Ohio. 

In less than a year, he would have a new home.

How long would it take for him to send letters to his family? How long to receive them? Months? Years? 

He let out a small breath and packed away his letters. It would be good to make sure that everything was packed away tightly for his trip – homesickness could kill him before any disease or tragic accident. 

Later that evening Pete presented him with a small box of cookies, perfectly white on the inside. He imagined how expensive they were, and when he tried to protest, Pete put his hands over his ears and ignored him. They were the best cookies he had ever had, and he wondered if he would have anything similar in Japan.

His thoughts were completely consumed by the foreign land.

 

_July 16, 1872_

_On the ship now. I look back and see that three months ago I was presented this opportunity, and was unsure. I am ready now. I am ready to be accepted and needed._

_I am not looking back._

 

The ship that Josh was sailing on was called _The USS Virgo,_ and it was the biggest ship he had ever been on. Granted, he had never been on a ship. Or a train either, hence the train he traveled on coming to Baltimore from Ohio was the biggest train he had ever been on. He and Pete shared a small space below deck, and while Pete was afflicted with sea sickness and kept mostly to his hammock for the first few days, Josh loved to be on deck watching the ocean pass by. 

The first day they lost sight of land Josh felt tingling in his toes and a bubbling in his throat. He’d never had a real sense of adventure before, but this trip was slowly awakening it inside of him. 

The food he ate was less than desirable. Hard crackers, dried beef, and porridge. It made the trip a little hard to bear, and Pete seemed to keep nothing down but biscuits. Gerard promised him that once they landed at their first port, he and the other members of the expedition could go aboard land and eat hot food from street vendors. It would take them about two and a half weeks to reach their first destination and Josh counted each day down on his fingers and marked them down in his journal. 

On the seventh day, Pete was finally well enough to get up and walk around. Josh helped him travel to the top deck to finally take in the sight of the ocean surrounding them. Pete stared over the edge of the boat for a long time, supposedly in awe of the sight before him, Josh grinning next to him.

“Wow,” he finally breathed after a long moment of silence. Josh nodded in agreement. 

“It’s amazing,” he said, bouncing. 

“It makes you feel small.” Pete said, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Josh glanced at his friend, his flat tone making him nervous. Pete was always the excited one, and Josh was always the reluctant one. It was never like this. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Josh asked, turning towards him. Pete nodded and turned to his friend, smiling. 

“Always,” he said, “I wouldn’t have come otherwise.” He patted Josh’s back and turned towards the stairs to take him back below deck. “I’ll be happy when we reach land. I guess I wasn’t built to withstand sailing.” 

Josh frowned and watched as his friend went below deck, debating whether or not to go after him and make sure he was alright. Deciding that Pete was best left alone, he turned back towards the ocean. 

 

_August 1, 1872_

_We have reached Portugal. I have never been to such a bright place before – the sights alone are enough to overstimulate a man to death._

_I am just happy to see land. I hope to get Pete to visit one of the vendors with me. Can you imagine – hot food after fifteen days at sea? My stomach aches for it._

 

Madeira was beautiful. 

Josh thought Ohio was beautiful. The beautiful crops he grew, beautiful people that he grew up with, and the beautiful plains that surrounded his home. The long, tall green grasses that swayed in the winds and the small creatures that roamed his home land. The wind that carried sweet smelling air through his home and reminded him of the great country that he lived in. 

He had to admit, sadly, that Madeira outshined Ohio. 

Everything was bright. Not that his home wasn’t bright, per say. Madeira was a swirl of colors – the ocean, the lush green rolling hills and colorful flowers that twisted up into tall peaks and mountains (Josh hadn’t seen mountains before – they intimidated him. Gerard told him that Japan had mountains, too). The roofs of the houses were a bright tiled orange, the house walls themselves a crisp, creamy white. The people of Madeira were dressed brightly, as well. Women wore beautiful colors, bright and patterned skirts that hid their heels and twisted easily when they turned. He thought abought the once bright patterns and plaids that his mother and sisters wore, and how they sadly paled in comparison to this island.

Before they had set off, Gerard had handed out early wages to the crew. Now, Josh carefully counted out coins in his palm and guessed what he would need to purchase some hot food. A crewmate that could speak some Portuguese agreed to lead him and Pete to the mainland, to make sure they didn’t get ripped off and were served decent food. 

The foreign language swirled around his head, and Josh wondered if he would ever pick up Japanese. 

The vendor they chose seemed nice enough, and conversed with their crewmate quickly. Josh didn’t remember the name of what they ordered, but he was handed a large green leaf with a fried piece of fish topped with what the crewmate told him was banana. Josh had seen bananas once before, and remembered them as being a fruit. He was unsure of the combination, but the smell and his stomach ache was enough to get him to try it. Five minutes later, both he and Pete were holding empty leaves.

The docked in Madeira for five days, and Josh and Pete ate hot meals every day. The day before they left, Josh left a letter with a ship headed back to America for his family. He didn’t tell them how the new things he had seen dimmed his perspective of his old home.

 

 

_August 31, 1872_

_It has taken nearly a month to reach our next destination, Saint Helena. We are here for a measly two days before going to our next destination. I never thought I would feel so thankful to walk on solid ground._

_Japan seems a long time away if we are not to reach it until March. I won’t be happy if we keep up this grueling pace – thirty days of sailing and two to rest. Supposedly this is the way they do it, but neither Pete nor I are sailors. I am not good with the “sailor’s way.”_

 

Saint Helena was as mountainous as Madeira, but the town was much smaller. Jamestown was nestled between two valleys, and carried little of interest to Josh. He and Pete found a small tavern that offered a hot meal, and they were quick to accept. 

They stayed in the tavern for a few hours, mulling over their trip and the progress they made so far. Pete had gotten over his sickness, and was starting to ease back into his normal behavior. 

“So I heard of something interesting in this town.” Pete said, sipping on his drink. Josh raised his eyebrows, waiting for Pete to continue. “It’s called Jacob’s Ladder, and it’s a stair case. With seven hundred steps. And I think we should climb it.” 

Josh thought about how bad his legs would ache if they climbed up and down seven hundred steps. He thought about how he they had another long stretch at sea before them – another two weeks to reach Cape Town from Saint Helena. He’d better use his legs while he still could. 

It ended up taking them the better part of an hour to reach the top of the steps, after Josh flashed a charming grin to a British soldier who was standing at the bottom of the staircase and eventually let them pass, and Josh less than gracefully flopped onto the ground. Pete stood hunched over, hands on his knees, panting and grinning through the sweat beading on his forehead. 

“I think my lungs are going to explode,” Josh wheezed, hand held to his chest. “And my legs.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Pete agreed, “But I haven’t felt this alive in months.” Josh let out a small laugh at his grinning friend and nodded. He had to agree – the feeling was invigorating. 

They got back to the ship late, Gerard scolding them lightly, and both collapsed into their hammocks. The rocking of the ship lulled Josh to sleep that night, and both he and Pete slept late. His legs ached terribly, and he opted to stay inside rather than relish their last day on land. 

 

_September 13, 1872_

_Cape Town is much livelier than Jamestown was. There is much to do here – lots of taverns, shops to explore, sights to take in. Gerard says we will be here for a long time. We are switching some crew members, and taking inventory of what we still have. Restocking as well, which I’m told will take a long time._

_Pete is ecstatic that we will be on land for so long. I find that I am relieved, too – I believe Gerard said at least ten days. It will do good for everyone’s spirits on board, I believe._

 

One of the new members of the crew was named Brendon, and he was just as lively – if not, more than – Pete. They got along instantly, Brendon reminiscing about his old home in the United States. Pete admitted that he, too, had bouts of homesickness, brought on especially when the waves were too rough at sea. 

Brendon explained to Josh and Pete how the seasons were flipped when they went south of the equator, so Cape Town was in the middle of their spring season heading towards summer. Josh found himself requiring a jacket when they went to explore the town, winds picking up and spring temperatures bringing goose bumps on his bare skin. He liked to stay inside taverns where it was warm, fires burning brightly in the corners of the buildings. Tavern fare was a mix of fresh greens beginning to bloom and the leftover salted meats from the end of winter, and Josh found himself enjoying more than one warm bowl of stew being offered. 

They were fortunate enough to not need translators, as was the case with Saint Helena. Most of the population spoke English, so touring the city was a breeze. Brendon knew where all of the best taverns were, and which sights to show them. 

“Doing it alone is boring,” he explained to Josh, after being asked if he was annoyed showing them everything. “Now that I have people to show, and get to look forward to leaving, it’s exciting again. Like my first time here again.” 

“How long have you been here?” Josh asked. 

“About a year,” Brendon shrugged, “I opted to stay after being hired as crew on a boat. Then everyone I was staying with slowly left, being picked up on different ships coming through town and looking for work.” 

“A whole year,” Josh marveled, “I can’t imagine.”

“You’ll be in Japan for much longer, I assume.” Brendon chuckled, “It’s not hard to picture.” 

Josh supposed he was right. 

 

_October 8, 1872_

_Right now, if I was home, I would be reveling in the harvest season. Now, I’m docked in a foreign island by the name of Mauritius. Gerard says we are making excellent timing, although I am beginning to feel sick of the sea. I would have sworn on the first day of my trip that I would never tire of the sight of the ocean, and now I am heart sore for solid ground and earth, instead of wood bobbing in the water._

 

The word Brendon used to describe Mauritius was tropical. Ohio was far from tropical – where this place was wet and humid, Ohio had been dry and stale. Every new destination made Ohio feel more dull, more dingy, akin to a forgotten memory locked in a chest under his bed. 

They had travelled nearly four months, almost four more to go, and Josh was aching to see his new home to stop the aching for his old one. The old, drab, faded home that his family was sitting in, probably crowded around the dinner table making up stories about what adventures he was on during his trip to Japan. He had to remember to send off a letter to them, although by the time they received it he would most likely already be settled in his new home. 

Josh smiled over his letter and thought about how disappointed his siblings would be when they found out his travels had been relatively uneventful. 

Pete and Brendon spent the first of many days on the island, dipping in and out of taverns together while Josh relished his time alone. He spent time going through the small amount of personal belongings he brought with him, fingers caressing the smooth yellow pages of the letters his family had written. He had half memorized his mother’s letter at this point, closing his eyes and reciting the words aloud as if she was speaking them to him. He briefly debated opening the closed letter he received on his birthday, but he solemnly returned the letter into his suit case. He knew if he waited he would enjoy what was on the letter more than he would now.

A tropical storm, what was called a hurricane, kept them docked for ten days, cooped up inside the ship. Gerard’s hopes of arriving on schedule were washed away by the heavy rains that soaked through the wood of the ship, making it difficult to find any dry spots. Josh wrapped himself tightly into his hammock, letting the murmured prayers of other crew members for a safe delivery at the end of the storm float over his head. He was not one for prayer; he wasn’t one for church, either, or religion as a whole. Being told that he was damned was not something that he wanted to endure, and so in choosing not to believe in it, he was miraculously saved. An equal to those around him. 

Josh and Pete marveled at how Brendon seemed to sleep the storm away, tucked into his hammock as if the harsh dipping and rising of the ship in the waters was the gentle rocking of a mother turning a crib by the fireside. The sharp creaking and groaning of the wood kept Josh awake, where as it seemed to be a mother’s soft lullaby to Brendon. When he did wake, he looked refreshed, and simply shrugged at their amazed expressions. 

“When you live at sea,” he said, chewing on a dry biscuit, “You learn to live with it.” 

Josh wondered if he would have to live with this for the rest of their time on sea, and he agreed with what Pete’s grim facial expression left unsaid – he would not be able to handle it. 

 

_October 31, 1872_

_Ceylon is this new place that we have arrived. It’s Halloween, though I’m not sure if the people here celebrate it. Gerard has kept to himself and has granted the crew permission to leave, without curfew for the evening._

_This place is quite magical. I doubt I would have ever imagined such a world in my wildest dreams. I cannot help but wonder if – perhaps hope that – Japan will be like this place._

 

Sailing into the port of Kotte, Ceylon was akin to traveling to another world. Josh stood in stunned silence, trying to take in all of the sights that flared in his vision. 

The port was busy, busier than any they had visited yet. Swirls of color made it difficult to focus on just one thing; women walked in groups shrouded in reds, oranges, and pinks. Their chatter was undecipherable, though they spoke in pleasant tones, quick and sweet. Their high voices rose above the shouting of men, offering their goods as they stood at their stalls, bartering and speaking quickly. Animals were led freely through the streets, men leading herds of oxen and cows, goats and sheep through the crowds. Through the noise Josh could hear, faintly, a high pitched singing coming from somewhere in the crowd, a singing he had never heard before. It was high and reedy, and Josh imagined whoever was singing was singing about something sad and painful. 

Small rafts, manned by two at a time, expertly navigated the harbor they docked at. Sailors hung over the edges and called some over, waving what Josh assumed was their currency. In exchange, the vessels would steer to them, handing up exotic looking fruits, bananas and coconuts, tamarinds and mangoes, and nodded their thanks. Josh’s mouth salivated at the thought of fresh fruit, but one look from Gerard told him not to. He didn’t have the money to pay for it, anyways. 

Pete came up next to him, letting out a low whistle as they watched the crowd move. “This is amazing,” he said, hands nestled in his pockets, “I didn’t think that when they said exotic…”

“They meant this.” Josh finished, turning to his friend with a smile. Pete nodded, not taking his eyes off of the sight before them. 

“I know we’re allowed to go look around but, truthfully, I’m afraid I might get lost.” he admitted with a small laugh, “There’s too much here to take in to be sure of where you are.” Josh nodded in agreement, chewing his bottom lip. 

“I might go down and stretch my legs,” He said, “But I won’t go anywhere.” Pete nodded. 

“I might join you.” Pete said, “But I’m going back down, for now. This,” he gestured to their surroundings, “Is too overstimulating.” Josh silently agreed with his friend, watching him turn and go back below deck. He hoped that Pete’s opinion about Japan wouldn’t be the same. 

They stayed for five days, never lingering too far from the ship. When they finally set sail for their next destination, Josh mentioned to Gerard that he thought one of the crew members was missing. Gerard didn’t comment on it. 

 

_November 14, 1872_

_This new place is called Singapore. Each place we arrive at I feel, with growing certainty, that we are growing closer to what Japan will look like. I have never seen people such as these before – truly, they are beautiful. They all smile, and welcome you with open arms, despite the clear differences between us. It makes one feel at home._

_I hope that my new home, the one that is so close to us now, is something akin to this bright, beautiful place._

 

Josh was sure that if Gerard had told them they had arrived in Japan, he would be happy to stay. Despite the patter of rain surrounding them, Singapore was clearly beautiful. The water was clear despite the rain, and if Josh looked over the edge of the boat he could see his reflection so clearly it was like he was looking into a mirror. He thought about the well on his family’s farm and how, when he peered down into the bottom of the well, his reflection looked back like a dark shadow. It made him nervous as a child, afraid the shadow would emerge out of the water and come for him. Later in life he would laugh at his anxieties, but he often stayed away from the well if he could help it.

“This rain is going to delay us,” he heard Gerard mumbling, standing on deck with a sour look on his face. Josh didn’t know much about sailing, so he thought it best to keep words of encouragement to himself. If any of the crew thought differently, they could correct Gerard; none stepped forward. 

Brendon rolled his eyes at Gerard’s dismay, “The weather will do what it wants to do. We just need to be patient.” he sighed. 

“Do you think we’ll make it by March?” Josh asked, pursing his lips. Brendon nodded. 

“Oh, no doubt about that. If the weather was perfect, I would say we would get there by January.” Brendon said, “But the weather isn’t perfect, and we do need to make port and get supplies.” Josh marveled at Brendon. 

“January?” he asked again. The thought of seeing Japan so soon made his head spin with excitement. 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Brendon warned, “I would say March sounds more realistic.” he gave Josh’s arm a small pat at his look of disappointment. “Would you like to go ashore?” he asked with a smile. 

Josh returned it, following Brendon towards the dock. 

 

_November 28, 1872_

_Today is Thanksgiving, though it is unlike any Thanksgiving I have celebrated in my lifetime. For one, we are out at sea. Rains kept us docked in Singapore until just a week ago, and it will take us two more days until we reach our next destination – Hong Kong. There, we will stay docked in order to celebrate Christmas, and we will wait to rendezvous with our translator for this journey. I’m told his last name is Joseph – Gerard describes Mr. Joseph as a man who thinks highly of himself, though I’m not sure I wouldn’t if I had his esteemed position._

_Since we will be in Hong Kong until January, I hope that I will not get too used to solid ground. It would be awful to have sea sickness again._

 

Christmas came and went in Hong Kong, spent splendidly with fireworks and a dinner supplied by Gerard. Josh managed to find gifts for Pete and Brendon in the markets near the docks, thanks to a crew member who spoke a little mandarin, and he gave them to his companions Christmas morning. Pete accepted his with a smile and a gift in return, while Brendon accepted his with surprise. 

“We’ve known each other only three months.” he said, looking at the wrapped gift with wide eyes. “I don’t have anything to give you back.” Josh shrugged and smiled. 

“You’ve been more of a friend to Pete and I than some of our friends back in Ohio,” Josh said simply, “And they’ve been our friends for years.” A light blush crept across Brendon’s face, and he looked down at his gift and then back up to Josh. 

“Thank you.” Brendon said softly, but completely sincere. Josh grinned and, after a quick moment of hesitation, hugged his friend. Brendon returned the embrace with a tight squeeze of Josh’s shoulder, the gift pressed tightly between them. 

New Year’s Eve was spent with much revelry. The crew members, as well as Josh himself, indulged in what alcohol they could get their hands on in Hong Kong. Josh hadn’t tasted anything like the sharp liquor they brought back, used to muddled down beers and the occasional sip of brandy at the holidays. He found his cheeks warming quickly, and his smile coming to his face easily. Pete matched his behavior, laughing and celebrating with their crew and fellow travelers. 

Midnight was announced with a grand display of fireworks, along with loud cheering and shouting and more calls for drinks. Josh, light headed and giggly enough, declined anymore of the festivities. Pete indulged himself, and in the morning when Josh was rewarded with only a small headache, he found his friend curled into his hammock with hands clutched to his head. A small pile of vomit lay beneath him, and Josh crinkled his nose and sighed. 

It was strange to welcome the winter festivities without any snow or the need for a wool flannel or a jacket. The temperature remained, pleasantly, in the sixties and seventies, and Josh reveled in wearing one of his cotton shirts with the top button undone and a pair of cotton trousers. He had put away the jackets he had brought with him, folding them neatly away into one of his suitcases in exchange for his breathable tops that didn’t cause him to sweat. Considering it was only men on board and, judging from their own attire, they weren’t picky about appearances. 

The wind lightly tousled Josh’s hair as he stood on deck, holding a tin cup with tea inside, when Pete emerged from below deck. He shuffled over to his friend slowly and let out a long, low groan. Josh wordlessly handed his cup over to Pete, who gulped down the contents. 

“Remind me to never drink again.” he moaned, leaning all of his weight on his friend. Josh sighed and took the cup back and patted his friend on the back lightly. 

“You’ll feel better soon. Why don’t you eat breakfast?” he said. 

“I don’t want any dry crackers.” Pete crinkled his nose, holding a hand to his stomach. “That’ll make me feel worse.” 

“I think someone bought eggs this morning.” Josh commented, raising his eyebrows. Pete looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, gaze wide. Neither of them had had eggs since June, when they were in Baltimore. 

The two enjoyed a hot breakfast New Year’s Day, and Josh was sure that was a sign of good things to come for the year. 

 

_January 15, 1873_

_We are still waiting for the translator to arrive. Every day Gerard waits, and although he is busy hiring new crew members and paying wages, and checking that we are restocking the correct supplies, I can tell he is anxious for this man to arrive. Mr. Joseph must be a very amazing man to make Gerard wait like this. Truthfully, I don’t mind waiting – I like resting this long. It is nice to have a break from the constant traveling._

_Everyone moves with a leisurely pace on board, while in Hong Kong there is a hustle about everything. It’s not a tiring rush; rather, everyone moves with an air of excitement and purpose. The people look like nothing I have ever seen, so bedecked in colors and jewelry the likes of which I have not seen. Brendon tells me that he knows there are many similarities between Hong Kong and our next destination, Shanghai, with Japan. I think that if I could look at these things for the rest of my life, then I should be a happy man._

_Alone, without scrutiny or suspicion – but happy._

 

By the end of January, Mr. Joseph had not arrived. The Chinese New Year, celebrated more explosively by the people of Hong Kong than New Year’s, came and went. Josh and most of the passengers aboard _The Virgo_ stayed on board, choosing not to partake in the celebration. Josh admired the fireworks and festivities from the deck of the ship, though the cheery atmosphere did little to Gerard’s dismay. 

In the first week of February, Gerard began to wonder if he had simply sent the wrong dates to the translator. Mr. Joseph was a man of pride and integrity – surely he would not leave the vessel, holding such important people and the future of the prosperity of Japan, waiting for him for so long? 

“I hope he shows up soon,” Pete commented to Josh one afternoon, chewing on a stick of jerky. Gerard was talking, loudly, to one of the crew members while making wild hand gestures and noises akin to a chicken being held by its feet. “Our captain might go mad.” 

Josh swallowed thickly, hoping that wasn’t the case. “He’s just stressed.” he shrugged, picking at a splinter on the side of the boat. “And I guess I would be, too, if I had expected someone so important to show up a month ago.” Pete shrugged, taking another bite of his stick. 

“If he’s that tardy, then maybe he just doesn’t care.” Pete said with a sigh. Josh grimaced a little at the suggestion. 

“Well, with or without this translator, we have to go.” Josh said, pulling the splinter out of the wood. “We didn’t come all this way to sail back home because someone wanted to hold us up.” 

Pete swallowed the remainder of his jerky and nodded as Josh flicked the splinter of wood overboard. He watched as it bounced off the side of the boat and into the water below, barely causing a ripple. Josh made a noise of annoyance, pushing away from the side of the boat and stalking down below deck. 

One haughty man would not ruin this trip for him, that was for damned sure. He would make it to Japan, and he would make a new life for himself. 

Josh settled into his hammock, throwing an arm over his eyes to shut the world out. This was not the New Year he was anticipating when he had his warm eggs.

 

_February 6, 1873_

_We received a letter today from Mr. Joseph, delivered to Gerard’s hand by a Japanese man. So he is the first official Japanese person I have ever seen and, therefore, my first glimpse of my new home. His name was Watanabi, but I was told later that that was his last name, and that everyone in Japan introduces themselves with their family name first and then their given name. So would I introduce myself as Dun Joshua?_

_Anyways, this letter from Mr. Joseph explained his regret for being so late, and that he was simply experiencing an emergency at his estate, and should be arriving to us by mid-February. Since the letter was dated January 28, and today being the 6th of February, Mr. Joseph should be joining us next week. I have never seen Gerard so happy – he was grinning and laughing from sheer relief that this man hadn’t judged our party worthless and abandoned us._

_Personally, I am not looking forward to this man joining us – a feeling of dread creeps up my spine when his name is mentioned, though for the life of me, I cannot explain why._

 

“He’s here.” Pete said, pulling the curtain back from Josh’s hammock. He looked at his friend with wide eyes, hands shaking slightly from adrenaline. “Mr. Gerard told me— told us that we need to look our best. I guess to make a good impression.” 

Josh sprang from his hammock, nearly tripping over his feet. He pulled out his suitcase and pulled on one of his new jackets as fast as he could, brushing off his trousers before deeming them good enough. He could hear Pete bustling about, as well as other passengers getting out their best and dressing quickly. 

Josh paused momentarily, glancing at himself in a small mirror he had picked up in Cape Town. His hair was slightly wild, and he realized that he didn’t care. After months of not caring what he looked like, it was shocking what the threat of perception could do to him. He was momentarily taken back to his home in Ohio, where he was constantly on guard, constantly trying to shield himself from the public. Every Sunday that he felt sweat grow on his brow in church, every holiday he spent with his family in town hall where he smiled and kept his gaze floor bound, every outing he spent cautiously tip-toeing around other families with sons his age, the boys he attended school with – the feeling of dread and being discovered slowly crept up his spine again, taking hold of his body rigidly. The same feeling that fluttered around when the name of this translator was brought up. He stared at his reflection, transfixed, numb to the world. 

“Josh?” 

Josh turned to Pete stiffly, eyes wide and unblinking. Pete had a hand on Josh’s shoulder, face twisted into concern. Josh turned slowly back to his mirror, and he saw his expression was one of fright and mild terror. His forehead glistened with sweat, shining even in the dim light of their quarters below deck. He wondered why his reflection was wobbly, wondering for a minute if a storm had started up outside causing the ship to toss and turn violently and cause everything to shake – and then he realized he was trembling. He dropped the mirror, watching it fall onto his neatly folded clothes in his suitcase, and shakily lowered himself into a sitting position into the hammock. 

“Josh,” Pete repeated, crouching down so he was level with his friend, “Are you with me? Are you okay?” 

Josh nodded quietly, raising a hand to show that he was indeed with Pete. “I’m fine,” he mumbled softly, running a hand through his hair, “I’m fine.” Pete frowned at him, clearly not believing his friend.

“Are you sure?” Pete asked softly, watching his friend’s face. Josh nodded, wiping the sweat from his face and breathing slowly. “… We don’t have to go up.” Pete judged, standing up and pulling the curtain that separated their quarters from the others. “He’s not impressive looking, anyways. Getting all dressed up for nothing is pointless, yeah?” he asked, trying to smile. 

Josh shook his head, slowly standing up from the hammock. “No.” he said quickly, “No, I can go up.” Pete looked like he wanted to argue, but Josh held up his hand. “I promise. I can go up and see him.” 

Up on deck, everyone was organized in a small group. Light chatter filled the air, and everyone had thrown on their best jacket, so it looked as if a group of fine gentlemen had gathered to discuss politics and weather. Josh snorted, following Pete towards where Brendon stood by the back of the boat. 

“He’s over there,” Brendon pointed towards a tall man who spoke with Gerard, dressed in a dark brown suit with brightly polished shoes. Josh mused that everyone seemed tall near Gerard, as he was always slightly hunched over, but he made a face when he noticed that Gerard had drawn himself up to full height. He had dark brown hair that was neatly combed, though Josh could see where it was greying slightly. He smiled at Gerard and listened as he spoke, and seemed interested enough in the conversation – but Josh could sense there was an air of haughtiness that surrounded the man, and his smile was stretched thin across his face. His eyes weren’t crinkled, and his teeth remained unseen. He knew the man didn’t take any pleasure in speaking with Gerard, or the crew as Gerard introduced him to each man. If Gerard knew that Mr. Joseph didn’t seem to care for him or any of the people around them, he didn’t let on.

Eventually, Gerard led the translator over to Josh and his friends, and introduced them each with a smile. 

“Mr. Dun and Mr. Wentz are both from Ohio.” Gerard said, watching as Pete extended a hand to Mr. Joseph. 

“It’s a pleasure, sir.” he said with an easy smile, turning on the charm his family so easily possessed. Josh supposed it was necessary to have charm to own a store and sell goods to customers. Mr. Joseph shook Pete’s hand and then Josh, who offered a tight smile in return. 

“Christopher Joseph.” he introduced himself, and Josh nodded. He neglected to offer his hand to Brendon, who looked over the edge of the boat and ignored the translator. Josh was sure the snub didn’t go unnoticed. “My wife is from Ohio. I’m sure she would love to meet you two.” he said, though Josh wasn’t sure that they would ever get the chance to meet if this man had anything to do with it. 

“I would be honored.” Pete replied smoothly, nodding to Mr. Joseph. The translator gave the group a final, quick smile before nodding, and being led away by Gerard. When he was out of earshot Josh rolled his eyes. 

“He’s an ass.” he muttered, turning towards Brendon to look out at the ocean. Pete frowned and joined them, leaning over the side to look at Josh’s face. 

“How do you figure?” he asked, studying Josh’s expression. Josh let out a huff and shrugged. 

“He clearly doesn’t want to be here.” he said, hands itching at his sides. “No wonder he delayed his visit to us. He thinks we’re all beneath him.” Pete made a face like he disagreed, but Brendon nodded. 

“His voice betrayed him.” He backed up Josh’s claim, nodding faintly in the direction the man walked off in. “His whole air, his attitude… He doesn’t like us.” Pete shrugged, turning so his back leaned against the wall of the ship. 

“You don’t know that for sure. He might just be tired from the trip.” Pete offered as a lame explanation. Josh shook his head. 

“When you spend half your life trying to decipher what other people know about you,” Josh said lowly and bitterly, “You get good at it.” Beside him, Brendon shifted at the implication but said nothing. Pete made a face but nodded, conceding to Josh’s opinion.

“Well, he doesn’t have to like us.” he said, watching a flock of birds circling overhead. “He’s been hired to help us. And he has to.” Josh didn’t mention that he could possibly mislead them, choosing instead to watch the waves below.

 

_February 27, 1873_

_We are finally leaving for our next stop – Shanghai – and then we will set sail for the last time, and we will be in Japan._

_Mr. Joseph is as great a nuisance I thought him to be and is, quite frankly, a jackass. He watches everyone with an air of distrust, and though I know he can’t possibly know where my afflictions lie, he looks at me as if he might know. As if he might throw me overboard, as if he might bury me alive and bury my sins with me._

_I have started to hide this journal with more creativity – my anxiety at it being found and my thoughts and feelings being revealed has greatened highly with the addition of this new and distrustful man. I sometimes carry it with me, though I know I cannot continue that practice. I take comfort in the fact that in less than a month, I will be safe on land, hopefully soon to be away from this man forever._

_Pete agrees, by the way, that he is a man no good, but not to the extent that I feel._

 

Shanghai brought them back to the normal temperatures of winter that Josh was used to, forcing him to dig out his jackets and flannel again. Pete took to the habit of wrapping himself in a blanket when he walked on the deck, and clearly didn’t care if anyone else thought it was strange. Josh thought about taking up the habit with him, but eventually decided against it. He didn’t want anyone to find him suspicious. 

Mr. Joseph spent most of his time with Gerard and other higher members of the crew. Which was fine with Josh – the less interaction, the better. He had hoped this burst of good luck, as he was referring to it, would last him through the New Year. 

They docked at the Shanghai International Settlement, which meant it was relatively safe for the crew to get off and mull about. It was a shared space between the British and American, so everybody spoke English. Josh was glad to dock somewhere that he and his friends could safely walk around, and the first night in they found a tavern and ordered a hot meal and drinks. 

“I just want to be in Japan.” Josh said wearily, picking at his plate. His appetite had disappeared when he noticed, unluckily, Christopher Joseph dining in the same establishment as them. 

“We know.” Pete said, chewing on a piece of chicken. “We do, too.” Josh pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, watching the colors that bled through the darkness. He was becoming very tired of the sea – they had been away from America for sixth months, but in truth, he had been away from his family for nearly nine whole months. It had become more and more tempting to open the letter from his mother that cautioned him to wait until Japan, wishing to hear something new from her. He had memorized all the letters his family had sent with him, and craved something new. He put his hands down on the table, blinking and letting his vision adjust again. 

Brendon was quiet, looking askance at Mr. Joseph as he dined at the bar top. If Mr. Joseph noticed him staring, he didn’t let on, and Brendon didn’t seem like he would care. After a moment, he turned back to the table and took a sip of his drink. 

“He’s watching us.” Brendon said, mouth turned down in a frown. Pete and Josh turned to look, knowing who he was talking about. Josh shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a chilling feeling creeping up his spine. 

“We should leave.” Josh said, pushing his plate away. 

“Josh,” Pete said, reaching over the table and grabbing his hand. He instinctively pulled his hand back, feeling his heart jump in panic, but Pete held on. “Josh,” he repeated, “It’s fine. We’re fine.” 

Josh swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry, and squeezed Pete’s hand. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the sweat breaking out on his forehead. He was used to holding up his guard, trying to stay away from suspicion – The Virgo had softened his guard, let him feel like it was okay not to be on his toes. His crew members and the other passengers were unconcerned with appearances and ways of leaning, and it was like a breath of fresh air. He had begun to relax, begun to accept himself. Not that he hadn’t before – he always had. But he accepted that he had nothing for his future, no way of life but to farm and hide. Now he could accept a new future, a new way of life, a new chance at happiness. Mr. Joseph, with his rigid posture and unconvincing smile, brought back the fear of judgement and exposure. It caused him to break out into a nervous sweat, and Josh wanted to be nowhere near the man. 

“I just want to leave.” Josh said pleadingly, shutting his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder, presumably Brendon’s, squeezing in an attempt at reassurance. 

“We can go.” Pete said softly, “Let me pay up, and we can leave.” 

“So soon?” A voice interjected, and Josh felt himself go cold. Pete’s hand pulled back from his, though Brendon’s hand remained on his shoulder. Josh dared not open his eyes, casting his face downward towards his lap. 

“Hello, Mr. Joseph.” Pete greeted, voice respectful but stiff. “How are you doing this evening?” 

“I should say wonderful,” The man replied, the noise of a chair scraping the ground ringing out, and Josh knew he had taken the empty seat to his left. “I’m going back home, I have a hot meal and a good drink,” he grunted as he sat down, and pulled his chair in, “And now, I am in good company.” 

Brendon pulled his hand from Josh’s shoulder, and Josh could tell there was a snarky reply waiting to be said. He gently kicked Brendon, hoping to warn him off from saying anything too disrespectful. Brendon might not like Mr. Joseph, but Josh was sure he had the power to kick someone off the ship. He was sure that Brendon wouldn’t want to spend months at another port, waiting to be hired for the next excursion, and relied on this to keep his sharp tongued friend quiet.

“Well, we’re honored you chose to sit with us.” Pete said, voice never wavering. The translator let out a short laugh, without any humor or warmth, and took another sip of his drink. 

“I think you lads will like Japan.” Mr. Joseph said steadily. Josh slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Mr. Joseph, hoping the fear on his face wasn’t evident. He wasn’t even looking at Josh, to his relief – he looked only at Pete. An easy, fake smile gracing his features. He sat back into his seat, taking another sip of his drink. “I think you might enjoy the theater in Japan. Have you ever been to the theater?” he asked, finally looking at Josh. If Josh looked panicked, Mr. Joseph didn’t let on. Pete and Josh shook their heads – besides seeing the occasional play at Christmastime of the nativity, neither of them had been to a real theater nor seen a real play. “What a shame. It’s a wonderful experience, truly. You must attend a show in Japan.

“There they call it kabuki. Kabuki theater. It’s unlike anything you have seen in your life, I can assure you.” he said confidently. Josh thought about everything he had seen up until this point during the trip, and wondered how shocked he could really be by a simple play. “They are so long an extravagant in the story telling,” Mr. Joseph continued, “That these plays can drag on hours. I find the story telling to be interesting, though one can be lost if one does not know the language.” He glanced at the three of them, and Josh felt his cheeks sting in embarrassment. Clearly, the three of them did not know Japanese. “Though with a guide, it would be possible to follow along. The stories are long, but easily surmised.” 

Josh caught Pete’s quick glance over the table and lowered his gaze again, while Pete turned to Mr. Joseph. 

“I’m sure we would love to see one of these plays. It sounds exciting.” Pete gave a tight smile and then stood from his chair. “We should be taking our leave, though. We do have a curfew to catch.” 

Christopher Joseph waved a hand as if disregarding their curfew, disregarding their time, and disregarding their desire to leave. “If you return with me, you won’t get in trouble,” he shrugged. “Good company among good men is always appreciated.” He looked at Josh and smiled, unblinking. Josh felt himself go rigid and cold, unable to move under the scrutiny of the translator. He felt like he might be sick, sick right on his lap or the table. 

Arms looped under his and helped him, shakily, to stand, and then suddenly he was being guided out of the tavern. He was rushed into an alley, quickly, and the arms under his shoulder turned into a warm hand on his back. He didn’t even realize he was vomiting until tears blurred his vision, legs wobbling and threatening to buckle underneath him. 

“It’s okay,” Someone murmured, rubbing his back. He vaguely recognized the voice to be Brendon, and he nodded through his coughing. He reached up to rub at his face, tears wetting his cheeks and bile fresh on his chin. Brendon handed him a kerchief, which Josh took gratefully and wiped at his face. 

“I’m sorry—“Josh gasped, holding a hand to his stomach in case he retched again. Brendon’s hand never wavered, and he never moved away.

“Don’t apologize.” he said softly, “He was being incredibly rude. On purpose.” Josh made a face, moving to stand up again. “He was an ass. It’ll be best to ignore him from now on.” 

“I would be more than happy to.” Josh muttered, shuddering and slowing his breathing. He looked at Brendon with red rimmed eyes, sure he was the picture of pathetic. “Thank you. Really.” he said sincerely, holding onto the soiled kerchief. 

“There’s no need to thank me,” Brendon said with a shrug, “I’m just being a decent human being.” 

Pete joined them a few moments later and worried over Josh before he finally convinced him that he was fine, and they slowly made their way back to the ship. Josh slept fitfully that night, dark and dreamless.

 

_March 5, 1873 ___

_I can scarcely believe the words I am about to write._

_I am in Japan._

__

Josh thought he would kiss the ground.

He was pretty sure that Pete would definitely kiss the ground.

His first sights of Japan included tall, curved roofs that curled up to the skies, as if wings that might lift up and fly off towards the sky. Gerard told him they were called pagoda style, and Josh thought about his home with brown shingles back in Ohio that suddenly seemed very boring.

From the architecture of the buildings alone, which became more focused and detailed as they sailed into one of the many ports of the newly re-named Tokyo, Josh could tell he would come to love this new place dearly. There was a loud chatter buzzing about the air, in a language Josh had no comprehension of, and yet was excited. He felt his spirits lifting as they hadn’t been in months, and he found himself, childishly, bouncing for sheer joy. Pete stood beside him, a grin matching his friend’s plastered on his face, equally as excited to be to their final destination. From the ship Josh could see the people walking, all bedecked in robes and silks that were decorated in swirling patterns and images or a variety of color. Josh thought about his new jackets that his sisters had sewn – a deep blue, a brown, and a black to match his trousers – and wondered if he would abandon them for these comfortable looking robes. A gust of wind forced him to pull his jacket closer, and he briefly abandoned the idea.

Josh watched as ferries transported people from one side of the bay to the other, peering at the passengers curiously as they lifted their faces and watched the boat, equally curios. Some people whispering and pointed at them, and children lifted their hands to wave. Josh offered a smile and a wave back, and immediately the children turned to their parents, tugging on their sleeves and chattering excitedly. Josh hoped they were as excited to see him as he was to be in Tokyo.

We’re finally here.” Josh said, joy clear in his voice. “I have to write my mom, she’ll be so happy to hear from me.”

I should probably write, too.” Pete mused, practically hanging over the side of the ship. He looked like he might jump and swim to port, as if his legs would push him faster than the winds in the sails. Josh didn’t blame him – his excitement was almost too great to bear.

Josh thought he might push the entire crew out of the way when they made landing, shaking with desire to step onto the last solid ground he would feel. No more sailing; no more, ever. Only for leisure, if he chose to do so.

"Be back here in one hour.” Gerard instructed everyone, watching as the crew poured off of the ship. Josh and Pete were no different, Brendon following close behind.

__They didn’t wander far, choosing to stay where they could still see the mast of the ship. What little they did see, however, took Josh’s breath away. Tokyo – newly named, Josh learned, from Edo by the young new Emperor Meiji – was the largest city he had ever visited in his life. Crowds of people were everywhere; some admired open shops of clothing or books, some crowded around street vendors eating food, and some watched a street performers practice tricks that made Josh look twice. The smell of food wafted to him easily, and Josh wished he had the currency and language needed to buy some. It smelled and looked delicious, and he knew his friends thought the same thing judging by their expressions._ _

__People stopped and stared at him and his friends, taking in his tan skin and easy smile, the mess of brown hair on his head compared to the sleek and smooth black hair on most of the natives in the city. His jacket, tailored to fit, and his pants that stopped at his ankles, differed from the smooth robes and easy comfort that everyone wore. Josh wondered if he would end up in these robes, exchange the easy movement and comfort of the silk and cotton for his suddenly drab clothes that reminded him of his old home._ _

__He thought about Christopher Joseph, a man who had learned the language and lived in Japan, and his American style suit of brown._ _

__He resolved to embrace the culture as much as he could._ _

__

_March 7, 1873_

_Imagine my dismay when we were told that, no, we are not yet done sailing. I had let myself believe that we would be done, we would be traveling by cart or horse or foot to our next destination. It was not to be – we will be sailing to the island of Hokkaido, which will be our true new home, to the city of Sapporo. From there, we will travel through the Ishikari Province and settle to our new homes._

_Of course, Mr. Joseph will accompany us the entire way._

__

__Sapporo was small compared to Tokyo. It was colder, too – Josh calculated at least ten degrees by studying the thermometer on board the ship. Pete had abandoned his blanket cape as they docked in the city, choosing to move about to generate warmth. Josh looked up at the grey clouds in the sky, wondering if it might snow later that day. His body had felt strange and off-center recently, and he wondered if it had anything to do with missing the winter season that fell upon Ohio with vigor._ _

__“Picture this,” Pete said to him, holding his fingers up into a square shape. He turned to Josh and looked at him through them, looking awfully serious. Josh giggled. “Sleeping. In a real bed. Very soon.” Pete grinned at him and Josh sighed at the thought. A solid mattress under his body and a pillow under his head sounded like heaven._ _

__“Don’t tease me, Pete.” Josh sighed, leaning against the mast of the ship. “I’ve forgotten what a real bed is.” Pete rolled his eyes and glanced towards Mr. Joseph, who lingered near the front of the ship. He, of course, had a private cabin with a real bed._ _

__“Think I read somewhere that we won’t have real beds.” Pete said, joining his friend against the mast. “They have mattresses, real soft and comfy, but they’re laid on the ground. Can you imagine that? Almost like camping on the prairie.” Josh snorted at the comparison. He was sure that the beds they would be given would be much different than the pallets the pioneers used when traveling on the prairie._ _

__They were slowly herded off the ship, belongings gathered in his arms and heart soaring. He and Pete checked their nook twice over to make sure nothing was left behind, and after a satisfactory nod from his friend, they finally left the ship for the last time._ _

__Gerard had made arrangements ahead of time to have horses and carts waiting, ready to travel to their new destination. Pete, Josh, and Brendon drove one cart together, lucking out as far as Josh was concerned. They would be traveling to an inn a few miles away, leaving early in the morning to continue their journey to the next village over, where they would settle and start the westernization._ _

__“It’s going to snow.” Brendon observed from the back of their cart, head tilted up to the sky. Pete scrunched his nose while Josh nodded, turning back towards him._ _

__“I thought so, too.” he said with a smile. “I knew my intuition couldn’t fail me.”_ _

__“I hope not. You’re taking the reins if it does.” Pete grumbled, hunching over where he sat. Josh couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s grumpiness – as much as Pete exuberated having fun whenever he could, the winter season shut him down. Every time it so much as flurried, Pete locked himself away indoors. Josh enjoyed the occasional sled ride and ice skating adventure, but Pete refused any and all winter activities._ _

__“Absolutely.” Josh promised his friend. “If it does, it probably won’t be for long. It can only get warmer from here.”_ _

__Pete let out a small huff and looked up at the sky as if he would make it disappear. “I hope you’re right.” he mumbled, adjusting the blanket draped around his shoulders._ _

__The inn they stayed at provided them with dinner, a wonderfully hot and salty dish of noodles and broth, vegetables floating in the bowl. Josh heard someone refer to it as ramen, but whatever it was called, it was delicious. It settled in his belly nicely, giving him a full feeling he had nearly forgotten from months at sea. He slept on a bed for the first time in months, and as soon as his head hit the pillows he fell asleep._ _

__He dreamed of patterns on kimonos coming to life, swirling and dancing. He dreamed of his new home growing gold from the ground, prospering more richly than he could hope. He dreamed of wind chimes singing to him from forests surrounding his home._ _

__He dreamed of a boy, sitting alone, praying for release from his despair. Josh wanted nothing more than to give it to him._ _

__

_March 18, 1873_

_My new home is ten acres – yes, ten – of land that has been granted to me by the council of Japanese men that want to westernize their country. They have trusted me with the task of growing and prospering wheat, which I have recommended along with other farmers because of the climate._

_My home is a small house that was recently restored for my living. It has thin paper walls, something I have never seen, and the doors gently slide rather than open and close. The floors are soft, covered by straw mats that have a pleasant yellow green color. I have one large room – a space for my bed, which I can roll up after I sleep, and a large table that sits low to the ground. I’ve never had a table like this before, and it still makes me giggle to sit down. I have a small fireplace, and I recently bought a pot to cook inside. I have settled in quite nicely, if I should say so myself._

_I am excited to begin this life._

__

__Settling into life in Japan was easy._ _

__The scenery was, in the plainest of terms, breathtaking – every morning Josh woke up and saw, outside his door, the mountains in the far distance of his home. They towered high, high into the clouds painted pink and purple by the morning sun. The mountains themselves loomed, large and blue, dominating the northern sky. His house hung near the back of his property a few yards from a line of trees that grew into a forest, and a stream ran through just inside the line of trees. Josh went to the stream every morning, gathering a pale full of the sweet, clean, cool water that he was told flowed straight from the mountain tops. (He preferred it by miles to the deep, dark well that he left behind). At night, the sound of leaves rustling, whispering softly and the babbling brook lulled him to sleep. Then he would wake up to the sun on his face and the song of birds in his ear._ _

__Josh began to work tirelessly, muscles aching sweetly after missing the stretch and grind of working every day replaced by balancing on a ship. He had oxen and a plow, another gift from the councilmen who hired him to come. Every day he tilled the soil until the soft green grass would turn into rich, dark earth, open and ready for planting. By autumn, he was sure that the long, green empty fields in the front of his home would turn into waves of honey gold wheat._ _

__He repeated this leisurely routine, this easy routine, and thought he might be in paradise._ _

__Living alone, completely alone, had been the most challenging part of this new lifestyle. Pete, who was living in town with Brendon and most of the other passengers, came to visit him often on the same cart that they first rode into this new land on. Pete was in charge of helping the economy of Hokkaido blossom, and he took to his new job with vigor. Already, he could speak simple words and phrases of the language that was still a mysterious necessity to Josh. He visited as often as he could, but the free time he had was starting to lessen as his meetings and planning went on. Josh was fine with it – he was used to being alone on his farm. The adjustment was not being able to walk less than a mile to talk to someone, or be able to buy something he needed._ _

__He found the solution to his mild loneliness in chickens. He kept them easily on his farm back home, and the ones that he bought here in Japan were no different. Constructing the coop was easy, and he swapped out the dried corn he fed his old chickens for dried peas instead. The benefits were endless – fresh eggs, droppings for fertilizer, and companionship. Pete teased him, telling him he was turning into a lonely old farmer. Josh smiled and let him tease him – he might not be for long. He might find someone, a companion. A life partner, as they say. He smiled and his eyes crinkled, thinking about all the possibilities._ _

__Maybe, in this new country filled with opportunity, where the sun shone brighter, he could find a lover._ _

__

_March 25, 1873_

_I finally found time to read my mother’s letter today._

__

__Josh stared at the familiar handwriting with its smooth loops and swirls, entirely his mother. She had been a teacher before meeting his father and settling down, and her penmanship was the neatest in the Dun household. He ran a hand over the brown paper, smooth and steady, just like his old home. He imagined he could even smell his mother’s perfume wafting off the paper._ _

__Josh scanned the words, reading slowly, drinking in the message from home that he craved. She wished him well, hoping he was settling in well enough. He would have to remember to write a reply to her and send it off as soon as he knew how – he wanted to capture the beauty of his new home for her, and let her know that he was slowly falling in love._ _

__When he neared the end of the letter he felt his brows furrowing and his heart speeding up, pulsing nervously. The tone of the letter had taken a strange turn, his mother suddenly assuring him that she would love him no matter what._ _

_… I know why you left, my bright, beautiful son. I pray you will find the happiness you crave in this foreign land, as I know it will be impossible to achieve here. I won’t reveal your intentions to your father or the rest of our family, but please know deep in your heart that I love you no matter whom you choose to love. Should you find it hard to adjust in Japan, please know there will always be space for you here…_

__Josh didn’t realize he was crying until the paper was dotted with wet spots, droplets rolling down his cheeks freely. He dropped the letter from his hands and brought them up to his face in surprise, smudging his cheeks with tears. A sob worked its way out of his throat and he shook and he found himself unable to process the message from his mother._ _

__She still loved him. She knew and she still loved him. Miracle of all miracles, she did not denounce him or damn him. He knew it was only because she was his mother, and he knew if any of his siblings or his father found out, he would not be received the same message of reassurance or encouragement. He most definitely would not be welcome back home._ _

__After a few minutes of processing the letter, Josh picked it up from the ground and hugged it to his chest. He imagined his mother was hugging him back, whispering kind words and reassurance like she did when he was a child. Carefully, he folded the letter and put it back inside the envelope it was sealed in and gingerly set it inside his trunk of precious things._ _

__

_April 2, 1873_

_I went into town on my own the other day._

_Something strange happened._

__

__Just outside of town was a small shop that, from the best of Josh’s knowledge, served the noodles he had eaten on one of his first days in Japan. He passed it whenever he walked into town, the familiar beefy scent wafting through the air and tempting him to stop. If he could communicate with the shop keepers, he would probably order twenty bowls of the stuff._ _

__He found, one day, that he was running low on food for the chickens. The decision was a fairly easy one to make – he grabbed a handful of coins, pulled on his boots, and headed into town._ _

__The entrance to the shop was odd. Two long, white pieces of heavy fabric draped over the entranceway, similar to a curtain in a room. Bright red kanji was printed over them, though Josh had no idea what it said – he assumed it had something to do with food or noodles. He stood outside, coins heavy in his pocket, and wondered if he had made a mistake. He swallowed, working up the nerve to go inside. He had made a resolve to embrace this country, and he was going to do his best._ _

__Josh took in a small breath, and went inside._ _

__He could see, and smell, immediately that more than ramen was sold at this shop. It was warm and inviting inside, and his mouth started watering immediately. The left and right side of the shops were lined with dark wooden tables and benches, some taken and some empty. Each patron lifted their head when they caught sight of him, and the small hum of voices died down. Josh greeted each gazing face with an easy, nervous smile, and slid into the seat nearest to the door. The table was, thankfully, empty, and Josh fidgeted while trying to remember if there were specific table manners he needed to remember._ _

__A man approached him, who Josh assumed was his waiter, and said something to him. Josh offered a small greeting in return, softly speaking a phrase Pete had taught him not too long ago. The waiter nodded, waiting expectantly. Josh licked his lips and put his hand into his pocket, pulling out the coins he brought with him. He held out his slightly shaking hand to the waiter, opening his palm and showing him the metal pieces._ _

__“Ramen?” he asked, suddenly feeling very foolish for coming inside. He felt his ears grow hot as he registered everyone staring at him, whispering to each other. He swallowed thickly and chewed his bottom lip nervously, looking at the waiter with a face that he hoped inspired pity._ _

__The waiter, thankfully, seemed to understand. “Ramen.” he repeated back, and nodded. He hesitantly reached for Josh’s open palm, taking the coins needed for payment, and gave him a small nod of acknowledgment before walking away. Josh let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, leaning forward in his seat. He let his head fall, staring at the tabletop in front of him and blocking any view anybody might have of him. He registered out of the corner of his eye a few people entering and exiting the shop, but kept to himself mostly._ _

__It didn’t take long for the waiter to come back with his meal, placing a white bowl in front of him. He uttered a quick thanks and a nod before turning his full attention to the steaming bowl in front of him. The wavy noodles floated in the brown broth, a slew of vegetables gathered to the side of the bowl, and nestled on top was a halved soft boiled egg. Pieces of sliced beef marinated in the broth, and Josh knew immediately that this was a good idea._ _

__He wasn’t familiar with how to use chopsticks, so he mainly lifted the bowl and drank, using the wooden tools to poke and lift the beef or vegetables he wanted to eat. The meal was as delicious as the last time he had it, settling nicely in his stomach. Unlike the starchy potatoes and corn meal from home, it sat in his belly nicely, and gave him energy instead of lethargy. He thought about some chores he needed to do after his trip into town, and knew this meal would give him the energy to do so._ _

__After finishing the last of his meal, Josh politely pushed his bowl away and sighed happily. He thought, happily, about visiting soon again, and wondered if there were any variations to the dish he had just eaten. Maybe they could put in chicken instead of beef?_ _

__Josh stood to leave, saying a phrase Pete told him meant gratitude. He turned towards the shop entrance and took two steps before a strong grip on his arm was pulling him back._ _

__He turned around quickly, pulling his arm back and curling his hands into fists on instinct, and stared at the man who had pulled him back. He was taller than Josh by only an inch, but his girth made up for his height. He stared at Josh, face creased in anger, and said something harsh. Josh blinked and felt the color drain from his face – he had no idea what the man wanted. He held his hands open in a sort of shrugging gesture, and waited. The man said something again and held his hand out._ _

__“I- I’m sorry,” Josh stuttered, shaking his head, “I don’t speak…”_ _

__The man thrust an empty palm into Josh’s face, pointing at it insistently. He scowled at Josh, saying something rapidly and harshly, and Josh shook his head._ _

__“I already paid.” he said slowly, searching for the man that served him. “No money.” The patrons in the shop ducked their heads, pretending as if nothing was happening. Josh felt his forehead break out into a sweat, and he shook his head again helplessly._ _

__The man shouted this time, shoving his empty palm into Josh’s face so quickly that he recoiled, afraid the man might slap him. Josh attempted to speak over the man’s shouts, feeling his voice grow smaller with each weakening protest. He didn’t want to make a bad impression on the local people, but he didn’t particularly want to be robbed, either. He swallowed, wishing he could shrink into the dirt under their feet and disappear._ _

__After a few minutes of hopeless bartering, Josh shakily reached into his pocket, ready to give the man what he wanted, when he heard someone enter into the shop._ _

__“Excuse me,” A voice said, sweet and clear as day, “Is there a problem here?”_ _

__Josh turned slowly, belatedly registering the English question posed to his ears, and blinked. A man stood in the shop entrance, holding one of the white drapes to the side, head tilted in concern. A mop of brown hair stood up on ends, curling slightly at the front and nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue robe, similar to the types of robes many of the patrons wore, and Josh noticed the man wore wooden sandals. The thing he noticed most, however, were his eyes – honest and open brown eyes, honey brown eyes that spoke volumes despite the relaxed expression on his face. This man had spoken to him, this clearly foreign man, and Josh blinked again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating._ _

__He met Josh’s gaze, and Josh felt himself blush as a spark of something unfamiliar hit him. It crept down his spine, sent goosebumps up his arms, and Josh recognized the symptoms as similar to those that he felt when the fear of being discovered took over him. The feeling that overtook him, however, was not one of dread. It was slightly pleasant._ _

__Josh realized, slowly, that this was desire._ _

__

_I met somebody._

__

__Josh turned red as he realized that the stranger was waiting for him to answer. “I- um- there’s just been a mistake.” he stammered, pointing weakly to the man in front of him that he now assumed was the shop owner. “He’s asking for payment, but I’ve already paid.”_ _

__The man stepped fully into the shop, turning his attention from Josh to the shop owner. He spoke to him quickly, to Josh’s amazement, in smooth and fluent Japanese. The man responded quickly, bowing slightly in his response, voice calm and collected. His expression remained the same, irritated and angry, and he glanced at Josh as if he were a child that was angry with his friend for telling on him. Josh realized, slowly, that the shop owner recognized the man speaking to him._ _

__“He says you never paid.” The man said to Josh, looking like he didn’t quite believe the man._ _

__“I did, before I even ate I did.” Josh said quickly, “You can ask my server. I would never have come in if I didn’t have the money to eat here.” The man turned back to the owner, assumedly explaining the situation to the owner, who looked like he might protest. A soft smile and a serene tilt of the head from Josh’s rescuer kept the man quiet, and he instead said something sharp to Josh that he assumed was an insult, and stalked off. Josh watched his back in amazement and quickly turned to his savior._ _

__“Thank you,” he said, nodding at the man, “Really, thank you, I- I don’t even know where to begin.” The man smiled and shook his head._ _

__“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Mr. Tojiro is… quick to temper.” he said in a gentle voice that Josh thought he could listen to forever, “Especially with newcomers and foreigners. I’ve heard of him robbing a few Americans that have eaten here.” he paused and frowned. “You’re American, correct?”_ _

__Josh nodded, blush still fresh on his face. “Yeah. I just came in with the new, er, fleet, if you will. I’ve been hired as a farmer.” Josh took in the robe that the man wore, the detail of the dark blue fabric neat and even, and it was clear that this robe was ordered for him. It made Josh almost embarrassed, admitting that he was a farmer, when this gentleman was clearly much more important than an agriculturist._ _

__The man’s face, however, lit up. “That’s great. I’m glad you decided to come here.” he said earnestly, flashing Josh a smile that made his knees weak. “I’ve been hoping that more people would come and help. I’m happy that more people are taking interest.” Josh smiled back, following the man’s lead out of the shop._ _

__“I think this place is beautiful,” Josh said, happy to jump onto a topic he enjoyed, “Back in my old home, in the states, everything was… dull. Not in the time or place, though, everything was bright because that’s all I knew. But now, being here, living here… everything pales in comparison.” he spoke quickly, rambling to this stranger his true feelings, his inner thoughts. If he was speaking to anyone else he would feel silly but he knew, somehow, that this man understood, this man agreed with everything he said. The eager expression on his face told him, and Josh read the rest of his body language to be interested._ _

__“I know what you mean,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed, “I thought my old home was beautiful. I left it when I was very young, to come here, and I swore I would hate it. But there’s something…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “There’s something about this country that could make anyone fall in love with it.” Josh studied the man and felt, with a swelling in his chest, that he agreed wholeheartedly with everything he said. He coughed then, holding out his hand._ _

__“Forgive me, I’m being rude. You saved me from quite a predicament, and then I talk you ear off without introducing myself.” Josh said, and the man laughed, light and pretty, like a bell ringing. He took Josh’s hand and shook it. “I’m Joshua Dun. But you can just call me Josh.” The man smiled and nodded, cheeks warm and pink._ _

__“It’s nice to meet you, Josh. My name is Tyler. Tyler Joseph.”_ _

__

_This man, who words can’t describe, is the most amazing person I have ever met in my life. I have known him for such a short amount of time, and yet I already feel drawn to him. I have a desire to be with him constantly, and I hope, probably in vain, that he feels the same way as me._

_It makes me wonder, though._

__

__Josh let go of Tyler’s hand, smile faltering for just a moment. “Joseph?” he asked, drawing himself up straighter. “Like—“_ _

__“Christopher Joseph.” Tyler confirmed, nodding. His gaze fell, expression betraying – for the briefest of seconds – his true feelings. Josh saw no trace of pride, no feeling of warmth or love for the man that was so crucial to their wellbeing. Instead, Tyler’s face showed something unmistakable. His eyes dimmed and his smile disappeared, showing – yes, Josh was certain – a feeling of dismay. Josh felt himself intake a breath of air, face going hot. “He’s my father.” Tyler said, staring at the ground. He quickly recovered, smiling at Josh without warmth. “A very important man.” He said tightly._ _

__“Important indeed.” Josh said coldly, suddenly not caring if he insulted Tyler._ _

__“So important.” Tyler repeated with a soft voice. Josh eyed him curiously, and Tyler met his gaze._ _

__Without needing to say anything more, they agreed on their view._ _

__

_How can such amazing people – such amazing, inspiring, beautiful people – be produced by people who harbor so much hate?_

**Author's Note:**

> The title of the story is inspired by sea of love (the version Cat Power sings) since I think it fits with this story so well.
> 
> The journey that was taken by Josh and Pete on their ship is inspired by the actual journey of Matthew Perry from the US to Japan from 1852-1853 on the Perry Expedition. I played around with the timing of the journey a bit, and I did research on each of the places they stopped in (regarding weather, food, and culture). The description of Ceylon was inspired by a passage in The Linnet Bird, which is a fantastic book and I highly recommend it! 
> 
> Please let me know if you spot any errors, historical or grammatical, and I appreciate any feedback. Thank you so much for reading!


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